


the free in the fallin'

by impossiblepluto



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Cold Open Challenge, Drugged Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016), Episode: s02e19 Benjamin Franklin + Grey Duffle, Gen, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25145221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/impossiblepluto/pseuds/impossiblepluto
Summary: Cold Open Challenge Day 3: Bozer learns about their "Up" adventure.
Comments: 19
Kudos: 73





	the free in the fallin'

The sound of soft voices draws Bozer towards the deck when he finally arrives home and he breathes a sigh of relief that he didn’t realize he was holding. When a surprise mission came up for another team, his make-up and prosthetic talents were in demand, keeping him late in the lab altering facial structures enough to fool the facial rec cameras in the building this team was infiltrating. 

It also kept him from meeting his team when they returned from their own mission, which wouldn’t bother him so much - he gets left behind both more and less often than he thought he would when he joined this covert operation - but he heard through the grapevine that they made a stop in Medical even before debriefing with Matty. 

Mac sent him a text, telling him they were fine and would see him later at home, which Jack backed up with a text of his own and was the only reason he didn’t task Sparky with watching his slush molds dry while he pulled a Jack and burst into Medical to check on his friends.

If he’d known how late he would be, he might have done that anyway. The sun is hanging low in the sky, still above the horizon but barely.

He hops up the stairs, the warm smokey smell of the firepit leading the way. His steps barely falter when he reaches the top.

Riley is curled up in one of the Adirondack chairs. An oversized hoodie, that she probably stole from Jack’s closet, covers her hands and she’s playing on her phone. Glancing up at Bozer’s exit from the house she gives him a smirk and raises an eyebrow while studiously ignoring the scene next to her. 

Bozer tilts his head, taking it in. 

There’s a thick quilt spread across the deck that they’ve used for beach days and picnics and as a really poor quality greenscreen that is a beast to edit. 

Mac lays on his back. Tools scattered on the ground next to him, hands in the air above his face as he tinkers with his latest project, looking completely content and relaxed and oblivious to the fact that Jack is curled up around him, eyes closed, breathing deeply.

Bozer would think that he’s asleep except that he can just see Jack’s mouth mumbling, faint droning notes that he thinks he almost recognizes. 

“‘ _ i’sa l’n day, l’vin' ‘n Rah-sheeeta. Th’r’sa fr’way runnin’ through th’ y’rd _ … hey Bud-zer,” Jack greets, eyes still closed, proving he’s still aware of his surroundings, then chortles. “I mean Boz-ey.” He laughs again, cracks an eyelid, and starts to lift his head.

“Ah!” Mac scolds, stopping Jack’s movement with a hand on his head. “You just relaxed enough to stop spasming. Don’t move.”

“Right. Right. Feel good cause ’m drugged not cause I’m good,” Jack releases long exhales and eases himself back to his reclined position. “And I got the good drugs.” 

Mac keeps a hand against Jack’s head for a moment longer, watching his partner out of the corner of his eye, before returning to his tinkering. 

“What… Are you guys okay?” Bozer eyes the scene, trying and failing to make sense of it.

“You mean this,” Riley puts her phone down in her lap, gesturing towards Mac and Jack. “Isn’t just an average Friday night?”

“I mean with those two, it is close…”

Mac adjusts his hand on the screwdriver just enough to give a wave with a single finger. 

“Your boy tried to recreate “Up,” Riley offers an explanation. 

Bozer raises an eyebrow. “Like Carl the crotchety balloon salesman and Russell the boy scout?”

“Substitute a trampoline for a house and that’s the one,” Riley says with a frown. “I’m not sure who that makes me in that scenario.”

“And that worked?” 

“Um, as a getaway from bad guys with guns? Yeah, mostly. We got away, but you can’t control the flight path and once you pop enough balloons to initiate descent, you can’t change your mind. But descending is good so why would you want to,” Mac’s brow furrows. His breath comes just a tick faster as the memory spikes his adrenaline. 

“Mac, are you okay? You're afraid of heights.”

“Yeah,” Mac gives a small shake of his head, trying not to jostle Jack. “I’m aware. I am very aware.”

“‘ _N th’ b’d boys st’ndin’ ‘n th’ sh’dows,_ ” Jack slurs and sings. 

“Still not sure how you got from Up to… whatever this is.”

“We were approaching the jetstream. Who knows where we would have ended up. We were heading for the ocean. Plus we were reaching dangerous altitudes, had to start popping balloons,” Mac begins.

“Which Jack enjoyed way too much.”

“Yee-haw,” Jack gives a whoop that would probably have been more impressive had he not yawned in the middle of it. “Better’n a carnival. Got the game an’ the ride at the same time. Should have won me the grand prize with my fancy shootin’.”

Mac frowns. “Which now that I think about it, we probably had a little altitude-induced hypoxia. No wonder Jack was laughing like a maniac while he was shooting those balloons.”

“Those hamsters up there,” Jack taps Mac’s forehead, “were oxygen-starved, that’s why you couldn’t think, with all that high-altitude stuff you were hyperventilating on.” 

“That makes sense. Can’t believe I missed it.”

“Told ya, the hamsters.” Jack reaches to tap Mac’s forehead again but Mac catches his hand. 

“Are you guys, okay? Should you be in the hospital sucking down oxygen?” Bozer settles into the chair next to Riley, leaning forward, keeping an eye on all three teammates for hypoxia-induced muddled thinking. 

“We got checked out, Boze, don’t worry. All of our sats were fine,” Mac reassures. 

“So that,” Bozer gestures to Jack, “isn’t some sort of brain injury?”

“Not a new one,” Riley teases. “No, Jack doesn’t have a head injury, he’s just drugged.”

“ _ Cause we’re freeeeeee... _ ” Jack warbles.

“I knew I recognized that song, please tell me he wasn’t singing that while you were up there.”

“ _ Free fallin... _ ’” 

“He sang it pretty much the whole way down. Could you have picked a worse song?” Riley scolds. 

“Probably,” Jack snarks back. “But I was on a little time crunch cause  _ I was free, free fallin’. _ ”

“Pretty sure he was trying to be a distraction,” Mac defends.

“See, m’ boy knows me,” Jack awkwardly pats Mac’s chest. 

“Only reason it worked was because I was too annoyed by the song to think about how fast we were descending.”

“We bounced, Bozer,” Jack slurs. “‘N not the traditional bounce you do on... on... one of those jumpy mat things.”

"We probably hit the ground four times before the frame crumpled,” Riley says. 

"I wish that family had taken trampoline safety more seriously and been using the recommended net enclosure."

“Okay, every turn this story takes makes me wonder why you guys are here at home and not in Phoenix Med or something. You dropped out of the sky. You bounced. I’ve gotten very used to the crazy thing I hear you guys do, but this might be the craziest.” 

“Nothing broken, just strained,” Mac breathes yet another sigh of relief. Finding Jack flat on his back with tears in his eyes and unable to move terrified him worse than the height they’d just fallen from. “They loaded him up on muscle relaxants and sent him home. Well, he demanded to be sent home.”

“Took forever for him to get comfortable. The plane wasn’t as bad, but I thought we were going to have to strap him on the roof of the car to get him home.”

“Bed was too soft, couch was too hard.”

“The deck isn’t too hard?” Bozer raises an eyebrow. 

“Gotta turn my leg jus’ right'. Can’t do that on the couch. ‘N Mac is a good pillow.” He pats Mac’s chest again. “Good boy.” 

“And you guys are okay? I know I keep asking, but…”

“Stiff and sore, but I didn’t fly as far or land nearly as hard, as those two,” Riley answers, stretching lightly and swallowing a wince.  


Mac shoots a glare at Riley before holding up a hand and stopping Bozer from taking a page from Jack’s book and completing a post-mission body check. “I have a concussion, a minor one. Otherwise, it really is just bruises. We’ll all be spending some quality time with ice packs for the next twenty-four hours and then switch to heat.”

“I’m greased up in Icy Hot, so I smell like I’m ninety. Or like Jack when he and Mac play basketball and he forgets he’s not twenty anymore.” 

Bozer nods, accepting his friends’ reassurances. “Alright. Alright. Cool. Well, never do that again. I won’t even ask you to try to recreate it for a movie. It’s one thing in a cartoon, but no one would ever believe it in a live-action.” He stands from his chair. “Now, when’s the last time you guys ate? And don’t count whatever jello or packaged broth they fed you in Medical, I’m asking when you ate. And meds, is it just Jack who needs med or do you guys too? I need last dosages.” 

A dozen different recipes cycling through his head as he plans dinner. He thinks this is probably what it feels like to be Mac, but with food rather than things that can explode. He crossed the deck, heading inside before he calls back over his shoulder. “Are those ice packs still frozen? When should we change those out next?”


End file.
